Page 115 of Inside the Sun

"Moonactuallyhad feelings for him?" I can’t wrap my head around that.

Summer’s lashes lower. "A bit, but it faded quickly. He once told me there’s something in Anzo’s past he knows about, something that made him feel sorry for him."

"That’s… also hard to believe."

Summer just shrugs and falls silent.

My mind is racing with all this new information. We’re so fucking trapped here. Every last one of us.

Around 1 am, we’re finally allowed to go back to our rooms, and thank fuck for that. I collapse into bed, telling myself tomorrow is a new day. New day, new me. Full of good plans on how to escape and save my family.

Maybe it’ll be better?

But I can’t be more wrong.

***

Somewhere around two or three in the morning, I get yanked awake by a hand on my shoulder. It’s Matteo.

"You’re coming with me," he says, his voice cold.

I already know this isn’t good. I slide out of bed, and he grabs my arm, practically shoving me into the hallway. We head downstairs, straight to the basement. And with every step, I feel a knot tightening in my throat.

I step into the black room and see the scene laid out before me. Summer stands beside the table, completely naked, head bowed, arms limp at his sides.

Matteo shoves me forward and I stumble against the table. From the shadows, Anzo emerges. He grabs the back of my shirt and rips it open.

Then he grabs Summer’s arm and pushes him down so he’s half-sprawled beside me.

Matteo leaves, locking the door behind him. Now it’s just me, Summer, and Anzo.

He says nothing. He walks over to the dresser and pulls out… two whips.

"You see, Sun," he says calmly, like this is just business, "we believe in collective punishment here. For your little games, sowing discord among my family and soldiers, both you and sweet Summer get to pay. That’s how it works. Just something to remember going forward."

He raises both whips in the air, takes his time with the swing, and then crack.

Hoooooooooooooooly fuck!

And he’s not even using full force, but the pain still rips a scream straight from my throat. Anzo knows how to hit, he doesn’t break the skin, but the sting radiates through every nerve in my body.

And Summer could defend himself, dammit! But then Anzo would know what Summer can do. And I get it. At least I try. But fuck, I wish he would do something!

Another strike. Both of us gasp. Then another. And another. It melts into a stream of pain…

I scream.

I beg.

I plead.

But Anzo doesn’t say a word. The blows keep coming, sharp and brutal. My back feels like raw meat. Even without drawing blood, the pain is blinding, like it’s chewing through my spine.

Finally, I start sobbing uncontrollably. I don’t even feel it coming, my body just gives in. And only then… do the strikes stop.

Anzo circles the table and looks down at my face, flushed and wet with tears. I’ve never looked at anyone with such pure hatred. If looks could kill, he’d be nothing but fucking free-floating quarks.

Instead, he smirks.

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